


A Brewer's Potion

by KoiBoi



Category: Greek and Roman Mythology
Genre: Ambrosia, Greek Mythology - Freeform, Pandora's Box
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-09
Updated: 2018-02-09
Packaged: 2019-03-15 16:56:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13617660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KoiBoi/pseuds/KoiBoi
Summary: Just a small story for English class. Was supposed to be one page, turned out to be 5. Oops. It's a story based off of the myth Pandora's Box and Ambrosia, so it has twists. There's also descriptions of gore and one reference to a serial killer. Have fun! :)





	A Brewer's Potion

Faraway and long ago, there was a town, a nice plateau.  
And on the plateau there lived a young woman who was the most fairest in all ways.  
Her name was Theodosia. She had slightly tanned skinned, like the color of coffee with cold milk in it. Her eyes- a deep, almond color, with a happiness to them that suggested her personality. Hair, rough as the little pebbles on a smooth sidewalk and wild like a frightened mouse. The color like an abyss of a cavern, never to be seen with the naked eye. Average height, but a bit taller than the usual. Although all the village people absolutely adored her, there was one thing. She had a secret, meant to be kept away from others.

In her home, she had many bottles of tonic. Although the villagers of this town knew that her bottles had special magic that could heal, they did not know she also had bottles that did evil. The safe tonics were used for the good of the town- like fertility, blessings, and more. On the contrary, the evil tonics spoke their name. They all had contained ambrosia, a sweet nectar made for the gods. If a mortal had drank one, their blood would be turned to ichor; a golden fluid that flowed in blood only available in the gods and immortals- this would have killed the mortal who drank it. Theodosia, however, did not know why she had the evil bottles; all she knew that it was her instinct to prevent someone from drinking it because they could cause people to turn immortal. If a normal human had heard of this, they would thirst for the power coming from immortality. 

One day, Theodosia went to a house- a close friend’s. This friend of hers looked like the complete opposite of Theodosia. They had pale white skin, but enough color to identify that they were not a ghost. Their hair was also quite the opposite- smooth, silky hair like a caterpillar’s cocoon and straight as like it was ironed out on an ironing table. The color was a bright gold, something eye-catching. Also, Istoria’s eyes- a brilliant blue, like an emperor butterfly. Theodosia did things normal mortals would do, like shopping together or just telling them stories of what happened in their lives. In the middle of her storytelling to her friend- whom was called Istoria- she accidentally let the bottles of evil slip from her lips. Fearing that her dear friend would tell the town about it, Theodosia and Istoria made a pact not to. However, her friend had different ideas about that. When Theodosia had left, Istoria immediately made invitations to the town square, which hadn’t been used for a long time. The town square was primarily used to punish people who did crime- either by guillotines or hanging. Then, Istoria handed the invitations to everyone but Theodosia, who had to go out of town into the forests to get more materials for potion-making. 

Gathered in the town square, there was a mass of people, huddled together excitedly. Theodosia did not know this, but most of the mortals in this town is what you would call a “tattle-tale.” They all loved rumors and gossip, yet when they heard information about themselves, they would either disappear or kill themselves in various methods- most of the bodies the village has found so far has been by asphyxiation. As the crowd buzzed loudly with exhilaration, Istoria finally appeared from their house and into the blood-stained square, holding a microphone. 

“Ah- testing, one, two. Is everyone here?”

The crowd, filled to the brim with enthusiasm, hurried Istoria to tell them the gossip. Istoria curled their mouth cruelly, gazing over at Theodosia’s house. 

“Everyone, I have a very important announcement to make. Everyone here knows the popular Theodosia, right? The one who always cares for us first instead of herself? Well- good. You see… Theodosia has been hesitant on telling us important information.”

Istoria paused for a few seconds, before speaking boldly again. Not an ounce did they even feel sorry for their friend Theodosia, who might be heartbroken after this. Istoria didn’t care anymore- as they knew the town was corrupt for dark thoughts and rumors.

“Everyone, did you know that Theodosia has different potions, ones for evil instead? Did you know?! These are filled with a god’s drink… ambrosia! Theodosia told me while she was at my house. And you know what ambrosia does? It makes you immortal. Immortal!”

The crowd paused for a second, being eerily quiet instead of the usual buzz from a few minutes earlier. Then they clicked two and two together. They began hooting with laughter and thrill- but not a good laughter. The one that meant something bad was coming. Istoria started again, louder than ever.

“I know everyone here wants immortality. Therefore, we shall get it! Who cares if Theodosia isn’t here!? Who cares about everything Theodosia had done for us!? The only thing that matters is that we become god ourselves. For our own good. Let us commence the raid!!”

Meanwhile, Theodosia was faraway from the town. She was picking herbs for her potions, searching for what she knew would be a very long time. As she searched and searched, she got deeper and deeper into the woods. Finally, she was done. It was noon. She traveled back excruciatingly, carrying her heavy load with her very slowly. Finally, she arrived at the plateau again. She gazed up at the town, sighing that she had to climb back up. As Theodosia sighed and began to scale the small mountain, she began to feel an unwelcoming aura. As she got closer and closer, she had noticed the odd “decor” the town had. Theodosia looked around wildly, trying to think why the town had skewered heads around the mountains. Some of them looked old, some fresh. Blood scattered about on the rocks of the plateau. Ugh- they were hideous. The eyes were gouged out in such a manner of violence it might as well be a murder, the wrinkles sagging down on the head’s weight, or the fact that the heads might be a heed to avoid the town- Theodosia just felt utterly sick. She gagged, and began climbing once more, up to the town. 

Villagers. Villagers everywhere in Theodosia’s little hut. They scrambled like crazy men, drooling like dogs of the thought of becoming a god. In such a state of madness, everything was knocked over in her hut- even the potions Theodosia had brewed earlier in advanced. Finally, Istoria had found the secret chamber- which as found in Theodosia’s garden where she grew vegetables. The chamber was hidden beneath a pile of sod, where he felt a bump in the ground. Turns out, that bump was actually a hatch’s handle. They carefully opened the hatch quietly, hoping none of the villagers had noticed them sneak out of the house with the chaos still happening. As Istoria closed the hatch above, they began traversing in the long, dimly lit staircase. Istoria admired the paintings as they traveled downwards, noticing how odd and distorted they are even for Theodosia’s bubbly personality. There was a painting containing a child’s dead and mutilated corpse, with the caption, “Serial Murderer: Albert Fish.” Istoria found joy in this, taking a good look at the painting once more before journeying down once more. At the end on the staircase, there laid a door. Istoria opened the door slowly, and peered into the room with an evilness, even one the gods might fear.

Theodosia had finally scaled the mountain successfully. She looked around the town, spying no one a sight- not even a soul. She had a gut feeling something was going on, but kept a positive attitude about it. As she walked towards her house, she finally heard crazed speech. Walking. Speed walking. Jogging. Running. Sprinting. She halted to a stop, only to see her hut slowly getting demolished by the mortals. She took a sharp intake of air, dropping her bags in horror. Her house- who has done this, she wondered? Theodosia came to one conclusion- Istoria. That sly dog- and they had even promised! Grabbing vials filled with tonics from her bag, she convinced the mortals that the vials were filled of the ambrosia. Hungrily, they came out of the house, all of them squeezing through the small hut frame. They gulped the vials down in one go, like an alcoholic finally getting a drink after a few days. Theodosia smiled a sorrowful, gentle smile. One by one, they fell asleep, a deep slumber that would last at least 24 hours. It was a sleeping tonic. “Score,” she thought. Then, in panic, she saw, Istoria was nowhere in sight. She ran into the house at full speed, looking wildy to see that they were still not in sight. Then, her conclusion came: Istoria must be in the chamber. 

Istoria gasped. Beautiful, just beautiful. The ambrosia was in sight- they picked it up slowly, admiring how beautiful it just was. The bottle was filled up to the brim, and enclosed with a cork bottle that was maybe from the rarest of trees. Istoria opened it easily, with a satisfying pop sound. Swishing the drink back and forth, they began to tilt the bottle back. First, pouring it into their mouth like a waterfall, then gurgling it like they were brushing their teeth. Istoria finally gulped it down. Oh- the exquisite flavor. Slightly acidic, but the aftertaste was the sweetest thing. Although it was slightly dry, Istoria didn’t care anymore. They satisfied their thirst with more and more ambrosia, Not feeling the pain in their blood until they drank the entire bottle. They screamed an agonizing, long scream until their throat was too dry and voice too tired to yell anymore. Suddenly, Theodosia burst into the chamber.

“What are you DOING?! I trusted you!”

Istoria smiled weakly. It was worth the death, they thought, After all, when you die, you get reincarnated, right? Right? 

“You should know… everyone in this village here is corrupted. Even I. But who cares anymore? I’ll be a god. A god!”

Istoria coughed up blood, except it wasn’t blood. It sparkled in the dark and damp room. The sparkles were swirling around in the fluid, giving pleasure to a mortal’s eyes. After all, they are attracted to things that look beautiful. The sparkles were like a star- it shined the way to the heavens. Except Istoria wasn’t going to the heavens. Theodosia gasped, clutching her mouth with her hands and her eyebrows were raised in concern to the extremes. Istoria’s blood- it had turned to ichor already. Istoria was dying. Frantically, Theodosia searched the small chamber quickly, pulling open cabinets and drawers. Everything crashed to the ground, even the ambrosia. FInally, Theodosia had found a vial she had been keeping for a long time in case someone had consumed ambrosia. The antidote- she hurried along to Istoria and sat on the floor, resting their head on her lap. She tipped the vial back, hoping it would revive Istoria. But, alas, it was already too late. As Istoria held onto their last breath, they also took the antidote at the same time. Because of this, this led Istoria to becoming a spirit on the earth, forever haunting the town. 

Years flew by. Then decades. In time, the town became abandoned. The skewered heads had become rotten, even warning the small bugs on the ground to stay away. Theodosia had also passed away, due to the fact that she wasn’t a god- but just a person who came to be. No one in the town seemed to remember where Theodosia came from or her backstory. Yet, Istoria lingered there. Why? They didn’t know either. They knew the truth about the town, but prevented saving it. They were lonely. Extremely lonely. If they hadn’t told everyone about the ambrosia… everything would have turned out alright. Istoria remembered their final words.

“I’ll be a god. A god!”

But, It didn’t happen. And it never will.


End file.
